#thus the first fic for this truly microscopic ship is released into the world lol

[reduxulousoctopus]

"Resemblance"

Flash/Orion established relationship, post-JLU, slice-of-life/domestic, daddy issues, short story

(sorry in advance to fans of the New Gods for things I definitely got wrong, this is based almost exclusively on Orion's like 4? 5? appearances in the entire DCAU and even then mostly just the two times he was in the Justice League cartoon)

--

"You should let me cut your hair."

Orion doesn't respond at first, too focused on the latest drama unfolding between the residents of Wisteria Lane. It's only when the broadcast switches to a commercial break a few seconds later that he finally turns his attention to the other end of the sofa, where Wally is slouched with one bare, lean, well-sculpted leg slung casually over the arm of the couch. He's poking at the touch-screen of his phone, playing some sort of game that involves rearranging several brightly-colored sweets into rows and columns before smashing them apart.

"Did you say something?" Orion asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Wally remembers with a smile. "I wanna cut your hair."

"Why?"

Wally shrugs one shoulder. "I think you'd look good with a buzz-cut. And lets face it, not everyone can pull off bangs."

He runs a hand through his own boyish fringe, which flops back down and sticks to his slightly damp forehead. This hemisphere of the Earth is currently going through its warm season and the air conditioner in Wally's apartment is only nominally functional. Even though Wally dressed light in just a pair of shorts and a tank top, he's covered in a faint layer of sweat. Besides its intended function, Orion has noticed a strangely erotic appeal to the way sweat glistens in the light and draws the eye to every contour, lending an almost tactile awareness of his human lover's body even when they aren't touching. Even the scent evokes memories of the many times he made Wally sweat.

After yanking his attention back from the turn his thoughts have taken long enough to remember what Wally said, Orion frowns (and expression his facial features are both familiar with and especially well-suited to convey) and tries to determine whether or not he should be offended. On the one hand, why should it matter whether or not he can 'pull off bangs'? He's a warrior feared by the vilest scum of Apokolips, not some well-coiffed pretty-boy like the actors on his favorite Earth broadcasts.

On the other hand... Orion has never felt so attractive in his entire life as he has since they started this odd, unlikely relationship. Wally is practically rhapsodic during their encounters, openly marveling at the thickness of his arms, the span of his shoulders, the ampleness of his buttocks, and the girth and form of his godhood. Even the rugged severity of his features seem to hold a beauty of their own in Wally's eyes.

If something so simple as changing his hairstyle would make him even more appealing to his human lover... perhaps it is worth considering.

--

The loud buzzing cacophony finally ceases as Wally turns off the electric hair-trimmer and steps back to admire his handiwork.

"How do I look?" Orion asks. He reaches up to touch the back of his head. His hair feels soft yet bristly, and shorter than it's been since he reached adulthood.

"Very hot," Wally assures him with a lascivious smirk. He runs a hand back and forth over Orion's freshly shorn head, brushing away any loose hairs, before unwinding the towel from his shoulders. "Come on, handsome, check it out for yourself."

Feeling his face grow warm at the still-unexpected compliments, Orion allows Wally to usher him into the bathroom. When the light flicks on, however, it isn't the reflection of his own supposed beauty that catches Orion's breath. He barely even takes notice of his new hairstyle or neatly trimmed brows, except for their culpability in what he does notice. His features reflexively furrow into a scowl, carving deep crags across his now fully-exposed forehead.

Orion glares into the mirror and sees the son of Darkseid glaring back.

"You don't like it," Wally guesses. He smiles to cover his clear disappointment. "Well, it's just hair, right? It'll grow back."

"It's not that. It... looks very nice," Orion forces himself to say.

"Then what's with the angry eyes?" Wally asks. He pouts while holding both his index fingers up to his own forehead, angled down in an imitation of a scowling brow.

Orion doesn't answer right away, unable to put what he's feeling into words. Besides, if he waits long enough, Wally will probably get bored and divert his attention elsewhere for a while.

Wally does get bored; his attention does not divert.

"Hellooo, Earth to Sega Genesis." He prods Orion's cheek with his finger. "Why the grumpy face?"

"Stop that," Orion growls after Wally pokes him again. Before yet a third attempt can be made, Orion smacks his hand away.

Wally sighs and leans his head on Orion's arm. "Sorry. I thought you'd like it."

"The obnoxious prodding?"

"The haircut. I didn't mean to push you into doing something you don't wanna do."

"No force in the universe could make me do something I don't want to do," Orion boasts. "I agreed willingly."

"So what's the deal?" Wally asks, lifting his head. "You know I'm not psychic, right? I'm not even smart."

Orion glowers down at him. "I would kill anyone else who said that about you. Don't assume that exemption will last forever."

"Okay, fine, I'm smart," Wally says, even as a mischievous smile tugs at his mouth. "Sometimes. When I try."

Orion grumbles.

"But what I'm not good at is figuring out what people are thinking if they won't just tell me." Wally gives a little half-shrug. "Sooo, what are we gonna do, here?"

With a heavy sigh, Orion braces his hands against the laminate countertop and gazes for a long moment at the hateful visage in the mirror before him. Finally he asks, "Quite the resemblance, isn't it?"

Wally's gaze snaps up guiltily from Orion's bent backside. "Hu-what? To who?"

"My father."

Orion watches in the mirror as Wally stares uncomprehendingly at him for a moment longer, before his mouth forms a small 'o' of silent realization. He nods, crosses his arms over his chest, and leans one hip against the counter.

"Fathers, huh?" he says with a bitter attempt at a laugh. "I know how that is. I mean, I can't claim that my bio-dad was the universe-conquering embodiment of all evil, obviously, but it's not a competition."

Wally has mentioned his birth father only once before, to briefly explain how he came to be adopted by his aunt and uncle. Apparently, the man abandoned his wife and son when Wally was only ten years old; however, Orion got the impression that there was more to it—that Mr. West had not treated his family well even during the brief period when he was present.

Perhaps it shouldn't be so surprising, that someone happy and kind had an unhappy, unkind childhood. After all, Orion was raised in the paradise of Celestial City by Highfather himself, yet turned out angry and cruel. Still, it's hard to imagine anyone choosing to hurt Wally when he was a child—at least, it's difficult for Orion to imagine without straining even Mother Box's ability to control his rage.

"It used to mess me up, how much I look like him," Wally continues. "There were days I couldn't look in the mirror without seeing his face. Here, I'll show you—let me see if I can find—"

Wally darts out of the room in a blur of superspeed. Orion hears one of the closet doors in the bedroom swish open, the rustling of clothes, a grunt of exertion, then a loud THUMP followed very quickly by a muttered expletive.

A second later, Wally appears in the bathroom triumphantly brandishing a photograph, which he shows to Orion. In the center of the image are a pair of human children playing with tiny facsimiles of terrestrial vehicles. The older boy is immediately recognizable by his unruly mop of red hair and bright blue eyes. Young Wally smiles as he demonstrates how to send the colorful little toy cars down a track made of bright orange plastic while a toddler with brown skin and short, tightly-curled black hair watches in amazement.

"That's my bio-dad, back there," Wally says, pointing to a light-skinned man with a mustache standing in the background of the photograph. He's holding a canned beverage in one hand and appears to be talking to someone standing just out of frame.

Orion frowns a little in confusion. The photograph's lack of resolution leaves some details to the imagination, but he can't really see much of a resemblance. The man is lean but not especially athletic or muscular. His hair is a dull, mousy shade of brown and his eyes are dark. His brows are sparse and unkempt, the bone beneath prominent and protruding. The nose is all wrong. The general shape of his face is somewhat similar to Wally's but his chin is too broad and his cheeks are too sunken and gaunt.

If he hadn't been told that this man was Wally's biological father, Orion would not have thought they were even related.

"I don't understand," Orion admits. "You look nothing like your father."

The smirk on Wally's face is unbearably smug. "Darkseid was a nine-foot tall monster with glowing red eyes and craggy gray skin. You're a normal-looking guy with a wrinkly forehead because you keep scowling all the time."

Orion scowls even harder as he looks back at his own reflection. His expression sours still further the longer he stares until, with great reluctance, he grumbles, "You... may... have a point."

Wally laughs. "Well, like Grammy Flash always says, even a broken clock is right twice a day."

After parsing the metaphor and realizing that Wally just called himself stupid again, Orion turns and, with the tiniest fraction of his full strength, effortlessly pins the speedster against the bathroom wall with one hand. He feels Wally's heart-rate suddenly accelerate under his palm until he can no longer discern the individual beats and it feels more like a constant vibration.

He lets just a hint of his actual voice through the illusion created by Mother Box as he leans in close and purrs, "I warned you."

--

"You know," Wally says several minutes later, rousing Orion from a light dose, "if you really want me to stop doing something, I'm not sure sex is the most effective deterrent."

Both of them are lying naked on the living room's faux- hardwood floor, skin damp with Wally's sweat (and other fluids). They'll need to clean themselves soon—and unfortunately, they'll have to do so separately, as previous attempts have proven that the apartment's tiny, lukewarm shower is too small for men their size to comfortably occupy at the same time.

If Wally only asks, Orion would have a luxurious human-style shower constructed in his quarters at Highfather's citadel, large enough for them both. They would share a bed larger than the two of them would ever need, a never-ending pantry and larder full of all of Wally's favorite Earth foods, and an enormous flatscreen television with all the channels—including the premium cable package. Wally would never go hungry, never have to worry about paying rent, never need to work for any reason except personal gratification and fulfillment, for the rest of his all-too-short mortal lifespan.

If only Wally asks.

Orion smirks as he peers at Wally through one cracked-open eye. "Are you complaining? I granted you mercy, but if you'd prefer..."

He turns onto his side and lays a hand on Wally's throat, not quite squeezing, but firm enough to tease at the possibility that he might do so. Orion feels his mortal lover's pulse quicken with excitement again.

"No, no," Wally hastens to reply in a slightly strained voice. "Just pointing out that it's a bit, uh, counterproductive is all. Maybe try positive reinforcement instead."

"Sex as a reward for good behavior," Orion surmises, while idly stroking his thumb in the dip between Wally's clavicle bones.

"Exactly. Now there's some cognitive therapy I can get behind—or in front of and underneath."

Orion huffs a rusty laugh. "Have you considered that I'm actually rewarding myself for good behavior?"

"Oh. In that case, I'm glad I could help."

"You help me," Orion says, sliding his hand back up the length of Wally's neck to cup his jaw. "More than you know."

In the conversational lull, Orion belatedly realizes that they left the television on. The screen is turned away from them, but he listens in for a moment and recognizes an episode of Scrubs he's already seen before—not exactly the ideal soundtrack for an afternoon tryst. He hooks his foot around the powercord and pulls it free from the outlet, allowing a pleasant quiet to settle over the apartment. Though the white noise of Central City's hustle and bustle continues outside, the apartment itself feels all the more peaceful by contrast. In moments like these, Orion can almost understand why Wally likes living in this squalor.

Even so, whether it's a side-effect of his mortality or the accelerated perception granted him by his superspeed, Wally can't allow the moment to last without filling the void with talk. "Seriously though, daddy issues aside, do you really like your new haircut?"

"I haven't given it much consideration, yet," Orion admits. "Does my opinion really matter?"

"Yeah? It's your hair, man."

"I'm not the one who has to look at it."

"Well, I think it looks good."

"So it does."

"Fine," Wally replies, annoyed and fond all in one; his due, given how often he inspires those same feelings in others.

"It will take some getting used to," Orion relents after a moment. "But it's good to see myself with fresh eyes, even if I initially tricked myself into seeing something that wasn't there."

--